


However Your Body Wants To Move (Whatever You Want To Do)

by stereoslash



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereoslash/pseuds/stereoslash
Summary: Sehun knew he shouldn’t expect too much from a proposal that literally had the word ‘bro’ in it, but he hadn’t really thought that things would turn out the way they did.





	However Your Body Wants To Move (Whatever You Want To Do)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my fave from the womb to the tomb. Title taken from Hands On Me as performed by the boys of Produce 101.

It’s classic Park Chanyeol to break the silence by asking, “Bro, should we get married someday?” — so much so that Sehun doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even look up from where he’s scrolling absentmindedly through his phone gallery when he hears the inquiry.

“Are you putting a ring on me, bro?” is Sehun’s response, the tiniest hints of laughter and teasing coloring his tone.

“If you say yes, then I will.”

“’Kay. Sure.”

And maybe it’s a little anticlimactic considering how nonchalant Sehun had been about the whole thing, but this was Chanyeol, and it’s always been hard to tell whether he’s being serious or not (because marriage was a dumb idea, but Chanyeol has been dead set on dozens of dumb ideas countless times before). So when Sehun finally looks up from his phone screen, it’s to deliver a line that he was sure would knock the older male a little off-kilter.

“You know we’re gonna have to have sex, right?” he asks, and Chanyeol looks like a deer in the headlights, too-big eyes growing even wider in surprise.

Sehun bites back a grin, an easy feat considering he had long since perfected his poker face, and plows on.

“You better do your research, hyung. I’m not letting you bullshit your way through this one when my ass is on the line.”

Chanyeol’s still staring blankly into space when Sehun walks out of the living room.

 

* * *

 

“So, uh. Butt sex. How does that work?”

Baekhyun’s hand stops midway through stuffing a honey butter chip into his own mouth, jaw slack as he looks up at Chanyeol in disbelief.

“Come again?”

Chanyeol hesitates, weight shifting from one foot to the other, and Baekhyun prompts him — with a wave of his free hand — to get on with it.

“Anal. How do you. I mean. How do you do it?” Chanyeol finally says, and Baekhyun bares his teeth in a wicked grin.

All of the members know that trouble was bound to come their way once Baekhyun flashes that particular smile at them, and worry bleeds into Chanyeol’s expression right on cue, moving as if to leave the room — but it’s too late, because Baekhyun’s yanking at Chanyeol’s wrist and causing the rapper to fall onto the bed beside him, his other hand wiping the remnants of his late night snack onto his shirt (Baekhyun had never really been awfully concerned about personal hygiene).

It’s when Baekhyun’s booting up his laptop, having grabbed it from the bedside table, that the silence is broken once more.

“Not that you didn’t come to the right place, but why did you ask _me_ of all people?” the vocalist asks, fingers drumming impatiently beside the touchpad as the laptop powers on.

Chanyeol shoots him a look, as if to say “are we seriously having this conversation?” and _oh_. Right. Baekhyun and Yifan _did_ have a thing after all, back in the group’s early days, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that Baekhyun was taking EXO-M’s precious duizhang up the ass (they weren’t exactly subtle, and even if they were, Baekhyun was a very touchy, very _vocal_ drunk who would have told everyone and their mother just how badly he wanted Yifan’s dick). In an attempt to steer the conversation away from himself, Baekhyun hurls another wrench into the gears — “Why are you so curious, anyway?” — and when the tips of Chanyeol’s ears turn a deep shade of red, Baekhyun declares ‘Operation: Remove Krisbaek From The Discussion’ a resounding success.

Truth be told, Baekhyun was prepared for a myriad of embarrassing explanations — from popping awkward boners around any of their members to having the urge to kiss the living daylights out of both Yesung and Minho (Satan knows that Baekhyun felt the same). But the actual reason — “I might have asked Sehun to marry me.” — comes as a complete surprise.

“You _what_?”

“I might have asked Sehun to marry me.” Chanyeol repeats, a little louder this time but no less sheepish.

“O…kay?” the screen beckons Baekhyun to log onto his account, but he pays it no mind, instead focusing on the male seated beside him. “Why, though? Don’t you have to be, I don’t know, _in love_ to get married?”

“We’ve been too busy to fall in love, Baek,” Chanyeol begins, pointedly avoiding the other’s gaze, “and I’m not getting any younger. I take care of Sehun and he takes care of me. I figured, if I couldn’t trust him enough to marry him, then who _can_ I trust?”

“Okay, cheeseball.” Baekhyun quips with a roll of the eyes. “Did he say yes?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” comes the retort, and it would be too much, really, to expect Baekhyun not to snort.

“Figures our little Sehunnie wouldn’t settle for some clumsy dicking. Don’t worry, though. I know just the thing.”

And if Chanyeol gets permanent mental scarring after being forced to watch anything and everything from triple penetration to twelve-inch dildos slipping in and out of various orifices, well — Baekhyun would argue that the rapper _really_ should have known better than to come to him for help.

 

* * *

 

“I heard you talked to Baek.” is the first thing Sehun says, bursting into Chanyeol’s room and practically inviting himself to lay beside the taller male. He’s got a magazine clutched in his hands, some random issue of CeCi that he’d lifted from the coffee table without looking, and he’s flipping idly through the pages as soon as he’s gotten comfortable.

“I did.” Chanyeol sounds cautious, not at all like his usual riotous self, and it makes Sehun want to grin.

He doesn’t, though. He pretends to scan the pages, eyes running over sentences but not registering any of them, expression carefully blank and voice purposely nonchalant.

“And did you learn anything?”

“I guess…? I’m not really sure, though. I mean, it’s gonna take some time and —”

“— practice, yeah. I know.”

“Wait, what?” Chanyeol sounds genuinely lost, so lost that it was almost (read: painfully) endearing, and Sehun decides that the magazine has served its purpose for the day — and so he closes it, hands folded atop the cover as he looks up at the elder.

“I said,” Sehun says, making sure that his words rang loud and clear, “that it’s the kind of thing that takes practice. Do you agree?”

Chanyeol looks like he just might die. “I — I guess? But Sehun, I’m not sure what you —”

“Good. Wanna fuck?”

 

* * *

 

Jongin’s on his second bowl of kongnamulguk when Sehun and Chanyeol stumble into the dining room for breakfast.

Neither of them look like they’d slept much, Jongin notes, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the numerous bite marks littering Sehun’s neck. He puts his spoon down and leans closer to the maknae to get a better view of the indentations, a finger darting out to poke at the skin only to have Sehun’s hand slap it away.

“You look like a chew toy.” Jongin states, which earns him a glare from the youngest member, but Baekhyun seems all too eager to join the conversation.

“Yeah, he does!” Baekhyun agrees through a mouthful of rice, and Jongin would have been disgusted if he hadn’t already been desensitized to the elder’s habits. “Are you a _baby_ , Park Chanyeol? Are you _teething_?”

Jongin purses his lips in order to fight off the grin that’s threatening to spread, eyes scanning Sehun’s and Chanyeol’s faces in order to gauge their reactions. Sehun, Jongin observed, looked absolutely miffed — but then again that was pretty standard for Sehun. Chanyeol, on the other hand, looked as if what he wanted more than anything was for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Easy, Baek.” Jongin could hear the smile in Jongdae’s voice as he speaks, one hand wrapped around a cup of coffee as he steps closer to the table. “Did you kids have fun?”

“He owes me an orgasm. Or two. Or three.” Sehun deadpans, stirring some chili paste into his bowl of soup — and Baekhyun _howls_ , face falling onto the dining table with a fist thumping against the wood.

Jongin watches, utterly puzzled, as Jongdae groans and fishes out a handful of crumpled bills from his pocket before shoving it into Baekhyun’s outstretched hand.

When Baekhyun finally stops laughing long enough to breathe, he presses kisses onto the bills and says, “Thanks for being bad in bed, Park Dumbyeol. I’m now fifty thousand won richer.”

Turning to Sehun, Baekhyun adds, “I bet you’re glad you asked him to practice. Imagine waking up like _this_ after your wedding night.”

Jongin notices the twitch in Sehun’s features before the rest of them do, the twitch that usually precedes a tug on the ear or a smack upside the head — but Sehun does neither, instead grabbing a hold of Chanyeol’s sleeve to tug him up and out of his seat, leading the taller male out of the dining room and leaving their breakfasts untouched.

Baekhyun resumes howling in laughter.

 

* * *

 

Sehun is silent as he leads Chanyeol through the halls, pointedly ignoring the other’s queries — which mainly consisted of “Where are we going?” and “What are you doing?” He all but drags Chanyeol into the older male’s room, locking the door behind them with far too much force than what was probably needed, but Sehun was just a few shades shy of livid — and so he took comfort in the knowledge that the sound would most likely startle Baekhyun enough to fall face first into a bowl of soup.

Sehun strips down then, pulling off his shirt before moving on to his boxers, and he’s got one leg out of the material when Chanyeol speaks.

“W-What are you doing?”

It’s that question again, and Sehun rolls his eyes as he climbs onto the bed stark naked.

“We’re not leaving this room until everyone can hear how good you make me feel.” Sehun states, blunt and to the point, and Chanyeol chokes on air.

“But last night —”

“I’ll walk you through it. I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t.”

Chanyeol nods, and Sehun can almost hear the older male psyching himself up as he takes two, three steps closer to the bed. “Okay.”

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Sehun asks when the seconds tick by without Chanyeol doing anything, and it’s enough to make him wonder why he fe — agreed to marry Chanyeol of all people.

“I mean. It’s just.”

“Just what?” there’s impatience lacing Sehun’s tone, one hand pushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes as he looks up at the elder expectantly, and the response —  “Isn’t it a bit weird that I’m fully clothed and you’re… not?” — has his eyes rolling towards the heavens.

“Are you actually being serious right n — oh just take your clothes off, for goodness sake.” Sehun prompts none too patiently, and Chanyeol (by some miracle) does. Soon he’s got the taller male in the space between his legs, but Chanyeol looks as lost as ever and Sehun rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time (they’d be endlessly rolling at this rate, he thinks) before pulling Chanyeol in for a kiss.

This part, at least, doesn’t require that much effort on Sehun’s part. Despite being clumsy with almost everything else, Chanyeol is a pretty good (read: _great_ ) kisser, and Sehun’s lips part under the elder’s all too easily. It isn’t long before Sehun’s rutting up against the thigh wedged between his legs, working himself to full hardness and letting out an approving hum as Chanyeol’s hands begin to roam his skin.

Sehun breaks away long enough to guide Chanyeol’s hands onto his chest, a whispered “Here,” prompting the other to brush his thumbs against each nipple, a shiver running down Sehun’s spine as a result. Chanyeol takes the hint, rolling the nubs in between his fingers, and Sehun tilts his head to one side; baring the teeth marks on his neck and pressing a finger against one of them.

“Mouth,” is all he says, unwilling to utter more than a single word at a time, but Chanyeol seems hesitant, unsure, and so he elaborates (“Don’t use your teeth.”). But it isn’t enough, and he has to suck a bruise onto Chanyeol’s collarbone to demonstrate — earning a groan from the elder — and Sehun doesn’t miss the way Chanyeol’s hips press blindly onto the sheets.

Chanyeol’s lips move to his neck then, erring on the side of sloppy as he tries to replicate the way Sehun’s mouth had moved but enjoyable all the same. Sehun cranes his neck even further, baring more of it, and Chanyeol obliges; blood rushing towards the surface of the skin as Chanyeol mouths over it. Sehun’s got his eyes closed, one hand slipping in the space between their bodies to wrap around the elder’s length, and Chanyeol moans against his neck — the vibration echoing across Sehun’s frame. Sehun gives two, three strokes; thumb sweeping across the other’s slit before uttering a whispered order for the lube.

Chanyeol sits up — Sehun becoming all too aware of the loss of warmth — and grabs the bottle from where they’d left it lying sideways on top of the bedside table last night, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers.

“Warm it up first.” Sehun reminds the other, taking the opportunity to catch his breath.

Chanyeol does, digits rubbing against each other before a finger pushes past Sehun’s hole, the intrusion being met with no resistance given the fact that Sehun’s still partially stretched from last night. Sehun motions for Chanyeol to add another, miming a scissoring motion with his own fingers which the elder copies, the slight burn of the stretch drawing a hum from in between Sehun’s lips. At his instruction, Chanyeol’s fingers begin thrusting in and out, Sehun meeting them halfway as he grinds down — and Chanyeol looks a little dazed, mouth parted slightly as his eyes rake across Sehun’s skin.

There’s precome streaked across Sehun’s stomach, leaking from his slit — and then he’s crying out, Chanyeol having added another finger and brushing against a spot that caused Sehun to tense up. Sehun sees the panic flaring up behind Chanyeol’s eyes, feels Chanyeol’s hand start to pull away — so his hand latches around Chanyeol’s wrist, eyes fixed on the other’s as he grinds down onto Chanyeol’s fingers slowly, deliberately, until Chanyeol gets the message and pushes against that same spot.

It doesn’t take long for Sehun to lose all coherence, head thrown back and moans slipping out of his mouth as he pushes back against the other’s fingers, vaguely aware of the gaze burning into his skin through the fog clouding his brain. Chanyeol’s free hand latches around one nipple, prompting a full-body shiver, before laving his tongue over the peak — and Sehun comes, hands twisting in the sheets and thighs shaking from the force of it.

Chanyeol’s smirking at him when he comes down from his high, and Sehun knows that look — self-absorbed and conceited as all hell — and it’s almost as if he can _hear_ the words before Chanyeol even uttered them.

“I made you come untouched.” Chanyeol says, predictably, with that smug little smirk still splayed across his lips.

Sehun presses his mouth against Chanyeol’s just to shut him up.

 

* * *

 

Junmyeon has his feet propped on top of the coffee table, head hidden behind a back issue of CeCi magazine as he tries and fails to ignore the chaos surrounding him.

It was ridiculous, really, how Baekhyun and Jongdae could keep repeating the same noises over and over again even after two hours — Baekhyun replicating Sehun’s breathless whines and Jongdae filling in the spaces with an exaggerated version of Chanyeol’s grunts — but he supposed it couldn’t be helped, not when Chanyeol and Sehun had made absolutely no effort to remain silent.

Junmyeon would bet an arm and a leg that it was all Sehun’s idea, and truth be told he was surprised that the maknae couldn’t predict how it would all backfire terribly. He had tried to shut the two vocalists up, he really, really had — but it wasn’t as if anyone ever _listened_ to him anyway, and the pair were even less likely to obey when they were having far too much fun.

Junmyeon’s fully expecting the glare that Sehun shoots Baekhyun and Jongdae as he steps inside the living room, hair still damp from the shower he’d taken with Chanyeol — but he hadn’t been prepared for the smug expression on Chanyeol’s face or the bruise blooming across Sehun’s cheek.

“Slipped and hit my face on the shower wall.” Sehun explains the moment Junmyeon’s mouth falls open, saving him the trouble of asking. “This _idiot_ couldn’t even hold onto my hips properly.”

“You told me to keep going, though.” Chanyeol quips, sitting beside Sehun on the couch and draping an arm across the younger male’s shoulders, refusing to budge even as Sehun tries to shake him off.

“I see.” Junmyeon nods, dutifully restraining himself from commenting any further — instead reading through the magazine and squinting at a suspicious-looking stain sitting on the corner of one page. “You should put some ice on that.”

“Later.” Sehun agrees, and Junmyeon dared hope that it would be the end of it, that he would actually be able to read his magazine in peace, but of course Baekhyun chose that precise moment to speak up.

“How many more orgasms does he owe you, Sehunah?” Baekhyun asks, eyes glinting with mirth.

“None,” Chanyeol replies before Sehun could speak up, and Junmyeon figures that this is why Chanyeol looked pretty damn smug in the first place, “my debt is fully paid.”

“Shut up,” is the last thing Junmyeon hears before he flees to the kitchen, the image of Sehun elbowing Chanyeol in the ribs burning into his mind and pulling a resigned sigh from his lips.

 

* * *

 

Sehun figures that there’s absolutely no way that he could back out now — not when he’s standing in front of a full-length mirror clad in a white three-piece suit (just another gear in the machine borne out of four grueling months of planning), Kyungsoo fussing over the hem of Sehun’s slacks.

“It looks _fine_ , Soo. You need to relax.” Sehun states, not for the first time — but Kyungsoo merely silences him with a look and Sehun wisely reverts his gaze to his own reflection.

Planning the wedding hadn’t been easy even with Junmyeon and Kyungsoo shouldering most of the work. The three of them knew from the get-go that Chanyeol wouldn’t be much help (“Look at him. He has trouble coordinating his wardrobe, for goodness sake.” Kyungsoo had said, never mind the fact that literally no one in the group coordinated their wardrobes save for Kyungsoo himself), opting instead to only consult Chanyeol in matters involving food. It was only meant to be an intimate affair anyway, seeing as they couldn’t very well broadcast the wedding given Korea’s views on same-sex relationships and EXO’s presence within the industry, and Sehun asked himself — how hard could it be to plan a wedding?

Pretty damn hard, it seems. The three of them — Sehun, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon — had to plan every single thing down to the tiniest possible detail, and within those four months Sehun often found himself falling face first onto his and Chanyeol’s shared bed (it only took a week of them alternating between either of their rooms for Junmyeon to put his foot down and demand that they room together), color swatches swimming behind his closed eyelids.

Sehun hadn’t minded, initially. He couldn’t find it in himself to complain when Junmyeon and Kyungsoo had to deal with more mundane details than he did, and he definitely couldn’t complain about how much stress he had to deal with when Chanyeol was always there to fuck the frustration out of him.

As their wedding drew closer and closer, though, Chanyeol became more distant.

Sehun hadn’t noticed it at first, far too engrossed in all of the last-minute preparations that they were trying to settle just a mere thirty days before the wedding; but as the nights went by with Sehun actually tucking himself into bed instead of just passing right out, he realized that there was something terribly wrong with their current situation.

Chanyeol wasn’t touching him. Sehun couldn’t remember the last time they’d fucked, or even made out, really — which was a damn shame because with all the ‘practice’ they’d been putting in (Baekhyun liked to use air quotes), the sex really _was_ getting better, and if Chanyeol was already good at kissing before, now he was downright sinful.

Still, Sehun reasoned, maybe the stress was getting to Chanyeol too. They recently had to change caterers, after all, and Chanyeol had volunteered to take care of it so that Sehun, Junmyeon, and Kyungsoo could move on to handling other matters. So he took it upon himself to initiate. It’s something Sehun never does — he was especially careful not to look like he was gagging for it, thank you very much — but he figured Chanyeol might appreciate the push every once in a while.

Except that didn’t quite work, either. Pecks were okay (and Chanyeol gave him plenty), but whenever Sehun gave the slightest inclination to deepen the kiss, the older male would somehow manage to pull away using some excuse or other. Sehun even offered to blow Chanyeol once, only to find himself being turned down because “Junmyeon asked me to pick something up” — as if listening to Junmyeon was more important than getting sucked off.

That put Sehun right off, and — after telling himself that he would never offer to put his mouth on Chanyeol’s dick ever again — the rest of the days leading up to the wedding flew past in a dry, monotonous blur that had him questioning whether or not they should be getting married in the first place. Chanyeol didn’t seem very invested, after all, despite being positively hands-on with regard to the wedding preparations (Sehun wished that Chanyeol would be hands-on about something else, more specifically putting his hands on Sehun’s body). Sehun knew he shouldn’t expect too much from a proposal that literally had the word ‘bro’ in it, but he hadn’t really thought that things would turn out the way they did.

Sehun tells Kyungsoo this much as soon as the shorter male finishes obsessing over the state of Sehun’s slacks, and he’s painfully unsurprised to receive no sympathy from the elder.

“Listen,” Kyungsoo drawls, and Sehun braces himself for another nugget of deadpan wisdom, “I have no idea what you two are doing or why the hell you’re measuring the fucks Chanyeol gives using — well, fucks — but it looks like he really wants this wedding to push through. I don’t think you should be worried about Chanyeol not reciprocating.”

And Sehun thinks Kyungsoo _does_ have a point; Chanyeol really did look like he wanted everything to go smoothly despite the fact that he hasn’t touched Sehun in a month, but —

“Why are you talking about reciprocation? Hyung, I’m not —” But Kyungsoo fixes Sehun with another look, and the latter doesn’t really have much choice but to stop talking; a subtle flush beginning to creep up his neck.

It isn’t long before the ceremony is underway, Sehun standing alongside Chanyeol who’s clad in a pitch black suit, newly dyed strands swept upwards and away from his face (they had both decided to dye their hair black for the wedding, having agreed that it is by far the least embarrassing hair color to have in the photos which would surely be rehashed for the rest of their lives) — and Sehun wasn’t really paying that much attention; alternating between sneaking sideways glances at the older male and wondering, yet again, whether or not any of this was a good idea (he can almost hear Junmyeon chiding him for letting his mind wander during his _own wedding_ , though truth be told Sehun wasn’t exactly bothered).

But he’s unable to dwell on the thought any longer because before he knows it, the preacher’s saying “You may now kiss the groom,” — off to one side, Sehun can hear Baekhyun grumbling about how the latter was hoping that the preacher would refer to Sehun as the bride — and Chanyeol leaning in is all the warning he gets before the wind is knocked out of his lungs.

The hand that’s cupping his jaw is gentle, but the pressure of Chanyeol’s mouth on his can only be described as the complete opposite. He had almost forgotten just how good Chanyeol was at kissing after a month of those chaste little pecks, and before he knows it he’s parting his lips and letting Chanyeol _take_. Too soon, Chanyeol (his _husband_ , the two of them are actually _married_ now) is pulling away, leaving Sehun slightly dazed; but he doesn’t miss how Chanyeol looks at him with hunger in his eyes, causing a shiver to run down the length of Sehun’s spine. It vanishes as quickly as it appears, leaving behind the dopey grin that Sehun’s used to seeing spread across Chanyeol’s lips, but the gooseflesh adorning his limbs serve to remind him that what he saw wasn’t just a trick of the light.

Sehun remains shaken all throughout the wedding reception, and even though Chanyeol is keeping his distance — making his rounds and greeting their guests — the memory of Chanyeol’s gaze burns bright within his mind. Eventually, Sehun’s frayed nerves start to calm down little by little as he makes rounds of his own; thanking people for attending their wedding despite the fact that they were currently tucked away on a small, out-of-the-way island. But of course that’s when Chanyeol catches his eye from across the room, flashing him that same look, and Sehun is suddenly on edge once more — half terrified and half aroused — because Chanyeol _never_ looked at him like this, was too awkward to even attempt it, but he somehow managed to pull it off and it was driving Sehun mad.

It’s a relief when people finally start retreating to their rooms for the night, the carefully composed mask that Sehun put on for the guests beginning to crumble inwards. He only has to deal with a few jibes and warnings from their members (“Don’t break the bed. Or the couch. Better yet, just don’t break anything. You know how Junmyeon gets when he sees additional charges on the bill.” Minseok reminds them, the tail end of his statement being followed by Baekhyun’s screeching of “Have fun, kids! I bought tons of lube and left them all over your suite!”) before the crowd finally clears out, the reception hall empty save for Chanyeol and himself, and Sehun runs a shaky hand through his hair. He should really take a cold shower, he thinks, so that he could let the water wash away his thoughts and his sins —

“Should we head up?”

Chanyeol’s voice cuts through his mess of an internal monologue and Sehun nods, careful to keep the elder an arm’s length away as they make their way to the lift — but Chanyeol’s having none of it, one arm snaking around Sehun’s waist to press him against the other’s side, and Sehun’s heart threatens to beat out of his ribcage.

The elevator ride is silent, with Sehun wanting to jump out of his own skin and Chanyeol looking as if he was composure personified. It’s not sitting well with Sehun at all, how Chanyeol could appear so calm and unaffected when Sehun himself was anything but. Still, Sehun appreciates the silence, if only for the fact that it at least gives him time to think. By the time the lift stops at their floor, Sehun’s pretty much done planning out the rest of his night — which he hopes would consist of a cold shower followed by planting face-first onto the bed and sleeping away the frantic beating in his chest. He’s been dry and sexless for thirty nights, and he can handle one more — especially if it meant he could hold on to what remains of his sanity.

The silence persists as they step inside their room (a honeymoon suite that looks twice as stunning in real life as it does in photos) and Sehun sets to work on stripping himself and putting the suit away carefully — he can almost hear Junmyeon rattling off the price of the outfit straight into his eardrums and imploring him not to ruin it. Behind him, he can hear Chanyeol doing the same, but he keeps his back turned — the last thing he needed was to lose the tiniest threads of self-control that he has left — and steps inside the massive bathroom instead.

The basins are shaped like seashells, Sehun observes as he stalks towards one of two sinks, splashing some cold water onto his face in an attempt to ground himself. It works, for the most part, and he’s met by his own reflection once he lifts his gaze; relaxing even further when he hears the television switch on — Chanyeol must be preoccupied, he thinks, which gives him a fifteen-minute grace period before the elder’s attention span inevitably fails. He’s reaching for one of the hotel toothbrushes when he hears the bathroom door creak open, and in the mirror he can see Chanyeol leaning against the doorframe, toned arms crossed over a bare chest.

“Taking a shower?” the elder asks, and Sehun nods. “I’ll join you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sehun says, a little too quickly, but he’s proud of how little his voice shakes as he responds. “I won’t take long, I promise. You should just — watch TV while you wait.”

“But you see,” Chanyeol begins, and Sehun can hear the elder’s bare feet walking across the tile, could see Chanyeol’s reflection growing bigger as he approaches, “I wasn’t really asking.”

Then Chanyeol’s hand is in his hair, tugging backwards to expose his throat, causing Sehun to gasp — and the sound would have turned into a whine as Chanyeol begins working a mark onto the side of his neck, but Sehun stops himself just in time. Chanyeol’s free hand comes up to his chest, ghosting over both nipples but not touching; drifting down to his stomach before settling on one of his hips. Chanyeol repositions him just so, the taller male rocking forward — and _oh_. Chanyeol’s half hard, grinding into the cleft of Sehun’s ass, slow and languid and filthy and Chanyeol’s never like this; Chanyeol’s not supposed to know how to move his hips in a way that has Sehun panting, the younger male’s length beginning to curve up towards his stomach.

“Look at you,” Chanyeol says, voice even lower than it normally is — the hand not tangled in Sehun’s hair coming up to latch around a nipple. “you’re out of breath and I’m not even inside you.”

Sehun can’t even find it in himself to protest, not when Chanyeol’s eyes find his in the mirror, the elder’s gaze dark and predatory and void of his usual hesitance — and Sehun _moans_ , rocking back against the other and gripping the edges of the sink for support; wishing more than anything that Chanyeol was fucking into him. Chanyeol must have read his mind, because the next thing Sehun knows, he’s being told to reach behind the sink, hands closing around a familiar shape — and Sehun figures that Baekhyun _really_ wasn’t joking when the older member said that he bought plenty.

Pretty soon he’s got his legs spread, three fingers slipping in and out of his hole — and even _this_ got better, Sehun panting and leaning back against the other’s chest to try and ground himself. All it takes is a few of Sehun’s breathless whines and whispered pleas for Chanyeol to replace those fingers with his own length, and this time when he presses in his thrusts aren’t slow and unhurried. Chanyeol starts up a bruising pace instead, large hands dragging Sehun backwards to meet his every thrust, somehow managing to hit Sehun’s spot every single time — and Sehun’s moans start to overlap, knuckles white as he struggles to hold himself up, eyes trained towards the mirror and never tearing from the other’s gaze.

Chanyeol wraps a hand around Sehun’s cock when his hips begin to stutter; and it takes four, five strokes for Sehun to come with a cry, ribbons of white spilling into the basin. Chanyeol fucks into him more relentlessly then, and Sehun watches himself being used, watches himself bounce from the force of Chanyeol’s thrusts as he rides out his orgasm — and Chanyeol comes, movements ceasing as he spills inside the younger.

Sehun will complain about it later, will pretend to be disgusted as Chanyeol’s come slips out of his ass — but right now, with Chanyeol pressing kisses onto his spine, Sehun’s pretty much content.

 

* * *

 

The living room is within view of the kitchen, and Yixing watches the rest of the group put up Christmas decorations as he marinates various strips of chicken — because for some reason they had all agreed that waiting until Christmas Eve to plunge themselves into the festivities would be a great idea. Junmyeon is situated on his right, decorating the Christmas Cake they’d bought from the corner bakery, and Kyungsoo is busying himself with the rice cake soup.

Yixing hums as he takes the scene in — watches Minseok wrap all of their presents meticulously, batting Baekhyun’s hand away whenever the younger tries to help; watches Jongin and Jongdae struggle to string Christmas lights through the curtains in a way that looked halfway presentable; watches Chanyeol and Sehun argue over who gets to place the star atop their six-foot-tall Christmas tree — and it’s true that Yixing _does_ look like he’s out of it the majority of the time, but in reality he’s actually pretty observant; so much so that Yixing knows what Chanyeol’s going to say the moment the rapper opens his mouth.

“Sehunah,” Chanyeol says as soon as Sehun finishes placing the star on the tree (the maknae looks absolutely pleased to have gotten his way), wrapping both arms around Sehun’s waist to pull the shorter male against his chest — and Yixing supposes that Chanyeol was trying to be quiet, but the rapper’s voice still resonates throughout both rooms. “I think I’m in love with you.”

And suddenly everything is still, subtle glances being thrown towards the pair as they collectively hold their breath —  “I’ve been in love with you for _years_ , dumbass.” comes Sehun’s reply, the words accompanied by a put-upon huff, but Yixing doesn’t miss the pleased little quirk of Sehun’s lips and the subtle blush blooming across his neck — and both rooms come back to life with a lot of teasing and wolf whistles and Jongdae laughing smugly as he holds his hands out towards Baekhyun (“I told you it would only take two months.” “Yah, Park Chanyeol! You couldn’t have waited four more weeks before confessing?”).

Out of the corner of his eye, Yixing sees Junmyeon shaking his head, a fond little smile playing across the leader’s lips as he takes a sip of the wine he’d cracked open just an hour ago. Yixing tilts his head towards the other curiously, a brow raised in question.

“What? It’s just,” Junmyeon looks hesitant, shy even, as he replies. “they seem really happy, is all.”

Yixing can’t really argue with that, and so he nods in agreement, growing pensive immediately after.

“Junmyeonah,” Yixing finally says, after what seems like hours but is in fact just a mere five minutes of internal debate, “should we get married someday?”

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a line over at [tumblr](https://sehunhq.tumblr.com/). ~~I crave intellectual discourse with fellow chanhun shippers.~~ Reblog the fic [here](https://sehunhq.tumblr.com/post/163406877667/however-your-body-wants-to-move-whatever-you). Cross-posted on [asianfanfics](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1272678/however-your-body-wants-to-move-whatever-you-want-to-do-exo-chanhun-seyeol-sechan-chanse).


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